Trauma
by Willow8
Summary: Dad, he’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” Virgil asked, turning pleading eyes to his father, needing to hear it from him, needing to hear that everything was going to be alright. “Please, promise me he’ll be okay.”


Disclaimer: How I wish I owned these guys. Unfortunately, I don't. All I own is 29 hours of the series and films (insert swoon here). I am merely borrowing these boys and will hand them back in relatively one piece at the end of the story...

A/N: Well, here's my one-shot-of-the-day. It took me a while, but here it is. Erm, it's a bit depressing, but hey, I'm not well known for my fluff. Remember to review!!

-Willow

Trauma

"Dad, he's going to be alright, isn't he?" Virgil asked, turning pleading eyes to his father, needing to hear it from him, needing to hear that everything was going to be alright. "Please, promise me he'll be okay."

Jeff could not answer him, the eldest Tracy was lost for words. He put one arm around his middle son's shoulders and held him tight, looking in through the viewing window with half-lidded eyes. How had it come to this? How had he come to be standing in this hospital, watching one of his children fighting for his life? Why did it have to be _him_?

"Mr Tracy?" A female doctor stepped hesitantly towards them, eyes betraying the severity of the situation that belittled the hesitant smile on her face. "Mr Tracy, I am Dr Frasier, I'm the consultant on your son."

"What's wrong with him?" Gordon asked, piping up for the first time since they had arrived. "Why isn't he talking? Why isn't he awake and telling us to get him ice-cream or something?"

Scott reached over and pulled his little brother back, holding him tightly to his chest as they listened to the doctor. Gordon stilled against him finally, relaxing into the protective embrace that Scott offered.

"...severe internal bleeding. We have stopped what we could, but there is no guarantee that permenant damage has not already been done." She shook her head. "He is not responding to any of the rests we have performed, his pupils are still dilated and he cannot breathe on his own."

Virgil felt his knees go weak, and Scott let go of Gordon to take hold of his brother and guide him to a chair. Gordon's normally pink cheeks lost all colour and he, too, sat down heavily next to Virgil. Scott sat down between them, Gordon moving across so that he could be party to Scott's protection.

"...more we can do, but only with your permission. I'm afraid his chances for survival are very slim indeed... I'm sorry..."

Jeff nodded mutely, standing in silence for a moment before Dr Frasier coughed to get his attention again. "I won't sign a DNR," He stated firmly, "he is my son, and I will not give up on him so easily... he'll pull through. Do what you need to do, just keep my son alive, please." There was a pleading undertone in the man's voice, and even Scott looked up as he heard it.

"We will do our best, Mr Tracy. You can go in and see him, now, if you want to."

The three brothers were on their feet immediately, already standing by the door. Gordon's hand reached out for the door knob when he paused, looking tenatively up at his father.

"Where's John? He should be here..."

"He's coming, son, we had to get a NASA shuttle to get him from his station, it's on auto-pilot, along with a message that we are unable to respond to any calls because one of our members is very ill." Jeff offered a weak smile, but there was no emotion behind it. "Come on boys, let's go and see your brother."

They filed in, one at a time, congragating around the bed. The sight of their brother close up was enough to send Virgil and Gordon over the edge. Gordon broke down in tears and backed away, reaching the wall and standing there, shaking his head. Virgil paled dramatically and sat down in the chair beside the bed, bottom lip trembling with the effort of keeping his tears at bay. Scott stepped up beside Virgil and reached out with one hand, brushing that of his unconscious brother. Jeff stood silently on the other side of the bed, looking at his son, hardly daring to touch him.

When he had finally worked up the courage, Jeff reached out with a trembling hand and brushed back the blonde hair from the scratched forehead. How did it come to this? His eyes rose and met those of his eldest son, and both of them were searching the other for that same thing; hope. Scott's eyes were abundant with it, Jeff's were dimmed, as if the hope was being suffocated by the fear and worry he held.

He was proud of his boys, of Scott especially, even now, his eldest son was pushing away his own worries to deal with his brothers, like he always did. Even when they were little, it was always brothers first, Scott second. Or even third if there was another person involved. So selfless, even now, when it was obvious he was hurting, his brothers took priority.

How did this happen? How could this have happened? What celestial fates had they upset so much that they would attempt to take another person away from him? Away from his family? He looked down at the figure on the bed and shook his head, closing his eyes briefly.

"I'm sorry..."

* * *

The silence in the room resumed after Jeff's words, Scott had taken the unconscious Tracy's hand and held it tightly, lost for words. Virgil had looked up at their father and rose, moving round the bed to hug his father tightly. Gordon had calmed down and was sitting where Virgil had been, had on his brother's arm, pleading with him to wake up... as ever, though, there was no response. They didn't know how long they sat there, it could have been hours, maybe only minutes. After a while, though, Gordon stopped talking, stopped asking and fell silent, eyes sorrowfully watching for any signs of movement. 

The door creaked open and a blond head poked in, blue eyes wide and worried. John looked to Jeff for permission to enter before he slid in and closed the door. His hands were then clasped behind him, as he was want to do when he got nervous or worried, and he walked over to the foot of the bed, looking down at the sight before him.

He saw his brother, lying unconscious on the bed. He looked so pale against the stark-white sheets that covered him and surrounded him. His hair stood out like spun gold and his chest rose and fell, punctuated by the soft 'pop' and 'click' of the ventilator as it breathed for him. 'Bip...bip...' John's eyes tracked the sound and he watched for a moment the cardiograph, recording and monitoring his brother's heartbeat, checking that he was still alive. He then returned to looking at his brother. His arms were both bandaged, the hands relatively undamaged, save for an IV drip of some sort that was entering the back of his right hand. The only sign that he was damaged was the scratches on his face and the swelling bruise that resided on his jaw. There were finger marks on his exposed collarbone... and John was sure that if they moved the covers, his chest would be a collage of black and purple bruises.

The normally gentle Tracy found himself filled with an unexplainable rage as he looked at his brother lying so still on the bed. Since when had International Rescue's action's been more important than its members? Since when had their job become more important than their brothers? Raising his head, he caught Scott's eyes and knew that the older Tracy was thinking the same thing.

Scott's thoughts were tinted with more self-loathing thoughts, he was the eldest, damnit, he was meant to look after them all! Instead, he pushed too far... momentarily forgetting that he was talking to his brother... he snapped... and now he hated himself, the last words he said to his brother were angry ones, ones spoken on the spur of the moment that caused pain in the younger man.

_"Damn it, stop fooling around down there!" Scott snapped over the link, worry over-riding his senses. "You'll get yourself killed!"_

"_I'm not messing around! I'd like to see you come down here and walk on this floor without dancing. It's really hot, and to be frank, it's easier to jump from foot to foot. It hurts less." Came the terse reply._

"_Can you see Jeff?"_

"_Yes. He's right in front of me, he's just looking around to see if there's another way in." There was a thud and then the camera jerked as Scott watched his brother dance out of the way of another falling beam._

"_For God's sake, just stop messing around. Do you want to be known as the 'ex-idiot of International Rescue?"_

"_Scott, I'm a perfectly capable member of this organisation." The reply was deadly calm, the hurt visible on the younger man's face. "None of you have worked harder to get here than I have. So don't you lecture me on being proper. All you do in the rescues is set up your mobile control unit and get us to do the dirty work."_

_Scott's mouth moved like a fish for a moment, caught off-guard and unsure what to reply. "That's not fair. I'm here first, I'm the face of the operation. You think I like sending you out on dangerous missions?"_

"_Obviously."_

_"Just shut up and get on with it. Don't talk to me again until you're done." And with that, Scott shut the link, silently fuming. Later, he would regret his words, but right now, he was too angry at his brother to care._

He shook his head and turned his eyes back to his brother. He wanted to apologise, but there was a small part of him that was still stinging from the comments hurled at him, and he couldn't quite get the words to form, he moved as if to speak, but then shut his mouth and turned away, feeling a new wave of guilt ride over him.

Gordon watched Scott struggle with his emotions and wished that he could help his biggest brother. Gordon never really had any reservations when it came to his emotions. People saw everything that they needed to, and he didn't really bother about holding back when he was around his family... so he couldn't understand why Scott needed to... but Scott was like their father, and Jeff never showed his emotions.

The second youngest Tracy looked at his partner in crime and bit his bottom lip. He wanted to scream and shake his brother until those eyes opened and his face split into a grin, congratulating himself on the state that he had managed to get his family in. Unfortunately, as much as Gordon wished that, he knew that it wouldn't happen, not now, and maybe not even in the future.

Thinking back on his last conversation with his brother, Gordon actually winced. Whilst his conversation had not been particularly spiteful, he had not been exactly nice to his brother either... he started to remember his words, but quickly stopped himself. What good would remembering do when he was watching someone he loved dearly slowly slip away from them? Remembering was something you did when you were no longer able to make new memories. He was not gone yet, there would be plenty of time for new memories... wouldn't there?

_"Virgil, can I ask you something?"_

"_Sure, what is it?"_

"_Did you hate me? When mom died?"_

_Virgil was stumped by the question. How could he tell him that he did, for a while, until he grew up to see that it was no fault of his own? The younger man took the silence for a yes and moved to turn off the link, question answered._

"_Wait... I did, I won't tell you otherwise. It was easier to hate you until the pain of mom's death went away..." Virgil sighed at the hurt look that flashed across his brother's face at that. "But listen, I don't hate you now. I could never hate you, and I can't even begin to forgive myself for hating you for that short time."_

"_Thank you, Virgil."_

"_It's no problem." Virgil answered, smiling at his brother. "I should be going now, squirt, I have stuff to do."_

"_I have one more question, it's more important than that one..."_

"_Can it wait? I really have stuff to do."_

_There was a silence from the other man that betrayed his hurt. _

_"...okay, Virgil." He left the room, head hanging. "Speak to you later."_

Virgil finally let go of his father as he recounted the conversation he'd had just that morning. Then the rescue had happened, and then this... he never did get told what the other thing was, maybe it had been really important, and by brushing it aside, Virgil had unwittingly caused more damage to be done. Oh, he hoped not... he loved the person on the bed far too much to cause him any harm...

He had told the truth, though, he had hated his brother for a while, for taking away his mother, for ripping her away from them. But in time, he grew up to see that hating the youngest member of their family for something that he had no control over was ridiculous. Virgil used to think it had been done by the baby out of spite, and he had to smile at the absurdity of the thought. He trusted the man lying on the bed now more than he trusted any other friend, the five of them had such a bond that it was hard to break... but it had been broken... hadn't it.

Jeff's eyes took on a haunted quality as he looked carefully at his son, surveying the damage visible and watching the soft rise and fall of his chest done by that damned machine in the corner of the room. Did he want to sign a DNR? Did he really want to sign his son's life away? What would they do without him? It might be slightly more peaceful- no, it wouldn't though, would it. It would be foreign, cold... a place where they wouldn't want to stay because every last thing reminded them of him. It would be a case of _'Oh, do you remember when he used this to tip Scott into the pool?'_ Or worse, _'Remember when he painted Thunderbird 1 pink and Scott hung him from the communications tower until he stopped laughing enough to apologise?'_ The man smiled at the memory of the pranks played between his sons.

No, his son was a fighter. How else would he have grown up to be such a fine young man under the wing of four protective brothers and one very absent father? Jeff felt guilty when he remembered how little of his attention the youngest had received as a child. Hardly any, he seemed to recall. Scott seemed to be the one who had raised him and Gordon, and Jeff was just on hand to ferry them about and occasionally turn up to parent evenings. Had he failed as a father, then? He hoped not. He loved his sons, all of them, but he found it hard to raise them after Lucille had died. He would not have gotten through it if it was not for his sons, they pulled him on and saved his sanity. With them, he had a reason to fight for, a reason to stay. And now, since one of them had almost sacrificed himself to save him... Jeff felt even more grateful that he had them.

"You shouldn't have jumped..." He whispered to the figure on the bed, causing his sons to look at him. "He got hurt saving me, boys. You know that." Jeff sighed, running one hand through his hair – a habit that all his boys had seemed to pick up on. Slowly, he started retelling the story, the bit of the rescue that had led to this...

_Jeff picked his way through the rubble, eyes open for any way to get into the building. Normally, he wouldn't have come on missions with his family, but today, they simply needed the manpower. Brians had taken control from Tracy Island, Tin-tin and Fermat backing him up._

"_Hello? Can anyone hear me?"_

"_Jeff, watch out over there, those supports don't look very stable."_

"_I know when there is a safe place and when there isn't, son." Jeff patronised, brows furrowing as he looked back. "And this is perfectly safe."_

_Next thing he knew, there was a creak and he felt something solid connecting with his waist, a shriek of 'DAD!' and then nothing as he hit his head and momentarily lost consciousness. _

_When he came round, he saw his youngest son pinned underneath the beam that would have fallen on him..._

_Grabbing frantically at his son, he tried in vain to pull him out from underneath the beam, unwittingly making bruises on the collarbone of the younger man. When he realised that he might, in fact, be making any injuries worse, he hailed Scott immediately and put a call out for help. _

_Virgil and Gordon soon arrived, and together the three of them were able to life the beam off and load the unconscious body onto a stretcher. There, under the watchful eye of some waiting paramedics, the Tracy family returned to their rescue. _

_After the rescue, they flew the Thunderbirds home and turned right round again, asking that the others stay and man the base, and contact someone to get John._

"I should have listened to you, I'm sorry, son."

"Dad, it's not your fault. You were trying to help people, and he made this choice on his own."

"I should have protected him better."

"I shouldn't have shouted..."

"I shouldn't have pushed him away..."

"I should have been there!" John interjected, sitting down next to his brother.

"He'll be okay though." Virgil said resolutely.

"Yeah, he's tough. He'll make it through." John smiled for the first time that day. "We've got nothing to worry about."

"He'll be back to himself in no time." Scott added, resting his hand on John's shoulder.

Jeff didn't comment, but Gordon did, smiling and bending to kiss his brother's forehead.

"C'mon, hang in there for us. Don't you dare leave without saying goodbye." Gordon threatened. "Or I will make you pay in ways you wouldn't even imagine are possible."

The brothers looked at each other and laughed. They were cut off when the nurse walked in and looked at them sorrowfully.

"I have to take him for his operation now. If you will wait in the family room until someone comes to fetch you?"

They nodded, each one pausing to quickly say something to the youngest member before they left.

"Be safe, bro."

"I love you, we'll be waiting for you."

"Love you too, bro."

"You'd better be alright after this, squirt."

"Hang in there son, I love you. I never told you this enough, but I do."

They filed out of the room and were shepherded to the relative's room where they stood, the four boys pressed against the window in a vain attempt to see the bed roll past to head towards the theatre. They couldn't see anything though, and all sat down heavily, resigning themselves to a long wait.

Would he be alright? They didn't know. But as long as he knew that they were there, waiting for him, he'd come back to them... wouldn't he?

End

ooc: Sheesh! Where did that come from? Crumbs... anyway, that's the end. What did you think, review? Please? Sorry about the ending, it's a bit naff, but still, it's an ending. Well, there's my one-shot for the day done. See you all later! Remember to leave your reviews on the way out!

-Willow


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